


U want 2 play?

by airspaniel



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-07
Updated: 2011-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/pseuds/airspaniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock gets a message.</p>
            </blockquote>





	U want 2 play?

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://sherlock-ldws.livejournal.com/profile)[**sherlock_ldws**](http://sherlock-ldws.livejournal.com/) week four. Prompt: Texting

It seems like a standard murder-suicide. A young married couple, the Dixons. The method is somewhat unconventional (self-immolation makes _such_ a dramatic statement), but there's nothing offhand to suggest it is anything more than it appears. And yet, Sherlock knows he's missing something.

His phone buzzes in his pocket as he looks over the woman's body for the fifth time (lacerations at the throat, forearms, and chest; the last superficial, left in what might be a deliberate pattern, but to what purpose?) and he's not surprised to see John's number flashing on the screen. He is, however, surprised at the content of the text.

 _ICU l8r?_

He frowns at the screen, tapping out a response:

 _If this is a punishment for the milk, I said I would replace it. - SH_

He doesn't even have time to return the phone to his pocket before it buzzes again.

 _LOL Ur so funny!_

The sense of something not right prickles the back of his neck again. _You're not John._ he sends.

The phone vibrates cheerfully. _Right. He is here tho. U get my message?_

For a moment Sherlock doesn't understand, staring at the screen. Until Lestrade called him in to look at this crime scene, no one had sent him anything at all. _What message?_

He has the distinct impression that the sender is laughing at him when he reads, _UR clever. U will get it._

 _I don't have time for games. Where's John?_

 _U love games_ , the sender says. _U love my games._ And Sherlock knows who it is.

 _Where is John?_ , he repeats; he can just imagine Moriarty's sick little laugh. The phone buzzes in his hand like it's laughing along.

 _Ask Mrs. Dixon. Better hurry._

The woman on the floor. The pattern on her chest.

Sherlock understands.


End file.
